


Kept

by beforeyouspeak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bellamione Discord Cult War, Discord: Bellamione Cult, F/F, Foursome - F/F/F/F, Hat Trick, Hermione Granger Scores a Black Sister Hat Trick, I do think I am hilarious. But look! I used tags, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Tea, Team Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 00:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20805647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beforeyouspeak/pseuds/beforeyouspeak
Summary: When the light falls at the battle of Hogwarts, Hermione enters the strange and wondrous world of the Black Sisters.





	1. How You Survived the War

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Reign Down](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7901920) by [drD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drD/pseuds/drD). 

> This began as a writing exercise before I take on the continued plot of the Black Prophecy. I admit to be under the influence of Reign Down by drD. My inspiration for the relationships between the Black sisters echoes the beautiful world she built. If you have not read it, you should.

Hermione sat unmoving pushed against the corner of the leather couch. She watched the slow and strange patterns of the flames in the fireplace before her. She knew she should be warm, as close as she was to the flame. But she was chilled to the bone. She wanted to ask if this destiny was the only one that existed. If she had made the right decisions. Her schoolmates (and her innocence) were buried in the ground. She knew now that their youthful dreams of overthrowing the system were just that… dreams. 

In quiet moments like this, she allowed herself to remember the boy with green eyes and a scar. The moment she has heard of his death, she had no longer been shocked by the horrors of the world. By then she had experienced so much pain and suffering first and second hand. He had been so brave and so very wrong about power. He thought love and friendship could defeat any darkness. But Hermione knew that darkness consumed without regard to such high ideals. But then again, in the Dark Lord’s new world it was fortunate he was already in the ground. This world would have taken everything from him one way or another. 

The red headed family survived, but it was not without a cost. They refused to pledge loyalty to their Lord. And so they were subjected to harassment and discrimination at every turn. After the boy died, they had generously invited her into their lives. But she couldn’t. Her betrayal (though under torture) was too fresh her in mind and heart. She couldn’t accept their forgiveness. Hermione felt the greatest guilt that she too did not choose their path. But she no longer carried the flame of hope within her. She wasn’t sure she even believed in it any more. She was practical and adaptable. 

She had been lucky (in a way) that the woman who tortured her was related to Andromeda. The older witch recognized the horror swimming behind her eyes on the day the Order fell. Like Hermione, she too had lost everything. She was facing a life without her husband, daughter and grandchild. Yet in the face of her grief, Andromeda was still a Black and a Slytherin. Before their Lord had even invited those that opposed him to re-select their loyalties, they were on their knees in front of him and his best lieutenant. Hermione was trembling like a leaf, but she had trusted that Andromeda knew what she was doing. Hermione had expected death or at the very least pain from the notorious wizard. But instead they were held up as examples of a reformed path in the new world. After hissed praise for their intelligence and promises to his faithful that they would repay their debts for the error of their ways, the witches were turned over to the care of the head of the Black family. Bellatrix looked far too pleased for Hermione’s taste at the time. 

But that warning feeling in her gut about Bellatrix too had faded with time. Not because the dark witch was soft now. No one would accuse her of such a thing. But as Hermione would be forever in the care of the Black family, she had become accustomed to the eldest’s violence and brilliance. Hermione had learned a breadth and depth of magic that she hadn’t even known existed when she was young and foolish (and hopeful). For all the feral looks and wild curls, the deatheater was the only teacher who ignited her mind. Bellatrix was a catalyst of learning and power wrapped in an exterior equally primed for seduction and destruction. She was the perfect antithesis of Narcissa. The blonde was cool, where Bellatrix was hot. Though no less intelligent and no less powerful. She had a depth that had Hermione mesmerized. She was certainly not just the late Lucius Malfoy’s pureblood housewife. 

Hermione tipped her head back willing the useless water not fill her eyes. She knew full well that the past should stay in the past. Reliving it and mourning it did no good. The life she lived now was full, even if it wasn’t what she expected when she was young and so foolish.


	2. Kiss Quick

Hermione could hardly believe the quiet that settled over the world in the hours after their betrayal (rebirth). With the Dark Lord firmly in control, it seemed the entire wizarding world took a collective breath. There was intense suffocating grief regardless of former affiliation. But it was the peace that settled which Hermione found so… unsettling. 

After she and Andromeda had surrendered, Narcissa took them to Malfoy Manor. Hermione’s whole body shook in fear as they approached the edifice. The torture Bellatrix inflicted on her body was ever present in her mind, but she could hardly contain her reaction when faced with the physical location. As before, Andromeda sensed her distress. A warm hand slipped into her own tugging her close. Hermione took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. The witch next to her made meaningful eye contact, and Hermione pressed closer to the comfort. 

Once inside, Narcissa turned and appraised them carefully. As the blonde looked sternly at her sister, Hermione took the opportunity to look at the youngest Black sister. She was beautiful in spite of the obvious exhaustion. The way she was looking at her sister was not exactly unkind, but it was skeptical. When the blue eyes were turned to her, Hermione shuddered and dropped her eyes to the floor. She felt positively see through. 

“I think for tonight, it would be best if I showed you to rooms. I will have elves bring you clothing and food. Bellatrix will have to decide how things will proceed tomorrow. But you both look like you could use a bath, food and a good night's sleep.”

“Thank you, Cissy,” Andromeda answered for them both. 

Hermione clung to Andromeda as they walked up the stairs winding through the large manor. When the blonde finally stopped in front of a door, Hermione hesitantly raised her eyes. Narcissa had apparently been waiting for the recognition. Her blue eyes lit with something akin to pleasure before shifting back to their usual unreadable aloof expression. 

“These will be your rooms,” she said as she lifted the wards and magically opened the door. 

They followed her speechless into a suite of rooms. They were grander than anywhere Hermione had lived (aside from Hogwarts) and she openly gaped. Andromeda was decidedly less impressed looking, though the young witch did not miss the gratitude. 

“Thank you,” Hermione said finding her voice (and Gryffindor courage). “Your home is lovely.”

Pale eyebrows raised in interest and Narcissa hummed. The sound was sweet to Hemeione’s ears. “You are perhaps not as hopeless as my son led me to believe.” Without further fanfare, she turned and left the witches, door clicking behind her. 

Hermione turned to look at Andromeda and felt her emotions coming to the surface. The older witch opened her arms and Hermione launched into them. She held Andromeda as tightly as she could. She buried her face in the curls wanting very much to hide from the world. Strong hands held her flush against Andromeda’s body. They stroked her affectionately, never lingering anywhere too long. After long moments in a comfortable silence, Andromeda pulled back slightly. 

“Come, let’s get clean and more comfortable.” 

Hermione nodded on autopilot. As she was following the witch into the bathroom she paused thinking about how unfair it was that she was alive and well when so many were not. Andromeda looked over her shoulder catching the look on her face. 

“I know this is overwhelming. And please believe that I am not ok either. But we must balance our mourning with learning how to live again. Come get clean. It does no harm, I assure you.” 

The young witch knew she was correct. There was no going back. And Andromeda (the mother of her dead friend) was so warm and compelling… and tempting. 

“Come, Hermione,” Andromeda said intimately hand outstretched. 

It was so charming and sweet a gesture that Hermione had clasped her hand before she thought to do so. The muted almost smile she received made her heart skip a beat. 

The bathroom like the house was stunningly appointed. It put the prefect bathroom to shame in its opulence. Hermione turned slowly taking it all in, only to be captured by dark eyes on the completion of her revolution. 

Andromeda had her wand drawn and had bubbles and hot water flowing freely into the ridiculously large tub. “Let’s get you out of those clothes,” she husked. 

It occurred to Hermione, even as she complied, that it was the smoothest pick up line she had ever heard. She shivered as nimble fingers pushed the denim jacket off her shoulders. She was motionless as her jumper was unzipped and similarly discarded. Without asking, she worked at undoing the buttons of the sweater Andromeda was wearing. She let her fingers ghost over the warm bare shoulders it revealed. The skin was sun kissed and smooth under her finger tips. She wanted…. needed nothing more than to be pressed solidly against an expanse of such skin. 

Before she pulled the shirt over Andromeda’s head, she paused to look up into brown eyes. She found compassion and more lust than she had ever seen in another’s eyes. (And she had largely been around teenage boys.) Instead of stripping the shirt away from the body she coveted, she buried her hands in brown curls and pulled their faces closely together. She wanted the next step terribly, but couldn’t close the last distance. 

To her relief, soft and warm lips pressed solidly into her own anchoring her. Andromeda’s exploration was wet, slow and thorough. And she left Hermione breathless and wanting when she stepped back. Much to the young witch’s relief, she only moved far enough away to divest them both of their remaining clothes. With a decidedly mischievous look, Andromeda pulled their bare bodies back together, touching from shoulder to knee. 

Hermione gasped, pulling the soft skin closer to her own. Andromeda tutted gently and moved them towards the now filled bath. 

“Soon,” she promised gently. 

Hermione followed thoroughly grateful to not be responsible for the plan of what would happen next or anything else. The warm water itself was a near sexual experience all on its own. Hermione had been so long without basic comfort that she suspected that it would be very easy to fall into a life in the grand house. At the thought, her eyes filled with tears and she could not stop them from falling. 

Andromeda guided her firmly into her lap holding her tightly. She cooed and let her cry for a few minutes before turning their faces towards each other. She swept gentle fingers beneath Hermione’s eyes. 

“We are survivors, you and I. It is both our blessing and our curse. But it is certainly our nature. Let me help you escape the pain tonight. We will deal with tomorrow when the morning comes.”

Hermione nodded and drew a deep breath into her lungs. She let the emotion, the everything settle in her. It burned and ached, but it didn’t consume her. She continued to focus on steady even breaths. Once she was again in control, she became aware of hands that were gently roaming her body, taking her in. Whatever arousal she thought might have died at the sight of her tears came roaring back. 

A steady warm hand cupped her face and drew their lips back together. Hermione sunk into the kiss and let it consume her. Andromeda held the back of her head firmly in place, a hand rooted in unruly hair. Being held tightly in place felt more like freedom than Hermione has tasted in years. When her head was pulled back with just the perfect amount of roughness, the groan the bubbled up without her permission. 

“Fuck. Please.” 

The sweet lips of her almost lover hummed in response against her neck where they had been busy. 

“Oh, Hermione,” Andromeda mumbled not quite willing to detach from the pale neck. “You will find I enjoy begging quite a lot.” 

She punctuated her comment with a sharp nip. It stood in such stark contrast with her attention to far that Hermione started slightly and clung firmly. 

“Please. Please touch me,” she whispered clamoring at wet skin trying to get closer. 

Andromeda smirked and hummed in thought. She would have eventually formed a response if Hermione hadn’t suddenly found her Gryffindor courage. Andromeda was now the one being thoroughly kissed. With a hand on either side of her face, Hermione had turned to straddle her lap and might have been testing their breath control. The need to have and possess this powerful woman thundered through Andromeda's veins. She may have fought for the light, but she was and would always be a Black. And possession and control were gifted from the cradle with her family. 

So she gripped the young witch’s hips hard enough to keep her where she wanted her and if she was lucky maybe leave marks. She felt Hermione melt dramatically into her. Well then. 

With stern precision, Andromeda commanded the movement of her hips. She took the kiss that was haphazard and full of longing and turned it into a soul brushing exploration. Moans and sighs filled her mouth as she was unwilling to let them escape into nothing. She traced one hand inward, stopping neither the rhythm of hips nor the cadence of lips. It was her turn to moan deeply when her fingers encountered a wetness that the bath had not created. 

A shudder ripped through Hermione’s body and she froze for a moment. The first sweet brush of Andromeda’s fingers against her were enough to send her spiraling into climax. 

“Oh fuck,” she moaned into slightly damp curls slightly embarrassed. Before she could say anything Andromeda kissed her again and she forgot to be embarrassed. 

“You are a revelation,” Andromeda said breaking the kiss. She placed a finger on lips just as they were about to open. “And we are not nearly done tonight. But I want you clean and on a bed.” 

“Please,” Hermione answered as it was the only word she could think of. She wanted so much. It was more than all the words she knew could possibly express. 

“Let me wash you,” the older witch said quietly. 

It was an intimate not quite question. It felt like a command and Hermione was already helpless to resist the dark eyes that looked at her with such certainty. And so she nodded, having no more luck with language than before. 

Strong hands nudged Hermione from her lap and turned her around. She leaned back into the strong hold, tilting her head back when a hand guided her forehead back. The same hands that lit her body on fire were scratching her scalp freeing the months and (battle) grime from her hair. A sweet soap was added and Hermione couldn’t keep her eyes open against the bliss. Far too soon, her hair was clean and she was being moved back into a seated position. 

Steady practiced hands washed her sweetly. There was clear purpose and kindness. It almost made her feel like a small child. At least it did until she was turned and could see Andromeda’s eyes again. They were dark and filled with hunger. A hunger that Hermione felt in every cell of her body. 

When Hermione was deemed sufficiently clean, Andromeda turned the sponge on herself moving with a determined urgency. Hermiones attempted to reach out and touch or help the beautiful witch in front of her. 

“Oh no, Hermione,” Andromeda rebuffed gently in a voice dripping with sexual intent. “Sit there and look. You will touch when I tell you that you can, but not a moment before.You are mine.” 

The last nearly growled statement seemed to shake Andromeda, but it made everything in Hermione buzz. Before the older witch could attempt to back down, Hermione said, 

“Yes, Andromeda.” She pushed all of her willingness and desire into her tone, not wanting Andromed to walk back what she had said. It was easily the single sexiest thing the young witch had ever heard. It was even better than anything she had ever dreamed up. Because who would imagine the sheer sexiness of a witch who could be your mother topping you so thoroughly.

So Hermione leaned back and looked unabashedly, just as she had been instructed to do. The bare skin and damp curls were so appealing and the way Andromeda’s hands were moving was beyond tempting. The second Hermione’s eyes had landed on her, a simple utilitarian wash had changed into something else. Andromeda’s hands lingered seductively on her curves, her neck, her breasts. Hermione knew her mouth gaped open, but she couldn’t manage to close it. Nor was she particularly concerned with whatever was going on above Andromeda’s shoulders. 

“If you leave your mouth open, I am liable to put something in it,” Andromeda said sharply. 

“Merlin, yes,” Hermione said still not looking at the witch's face. She could have, of course, but it was more fun to push her just a little to see what the reaction would be. And the body was so compelling that she didn’t want to look away. 

Andromeda smiled wolfishly at the girl’s focus. So she put on just a little show. She loved the attention and the girl’s willingness to… give. 

Hermione looked positively ravenous when the breast was put in front of her mouth in offering. She glanced up shortly as she took a hard nipple into her mouth. She saw the look of rapture before her own eyes closed in pleasure. Her hands rested gently at the witch’s curves holding them close together. She explored the skin in her mouth with her tongue. It felt like being in the beloved Hogwarts library again. There was so much to explore, so much information to gain. Her world had shrunk just to the skin in her mouth and the sound of pleasure above her head. And the hand that held her head in place. Both allowing her to stay and insisting that she did.

“Oh, Hermione. Aren’t you just ravenous?” Andromeda asked the question without expectation of response, as she didn’t move her hand to allow the girl to respond. She felt the moan against her skin and shuddered at the pleasure. But she wanted so much more than was possible in the water. And the bath had served its purpose. Not only were they clean and smelling significantly better, but it drew a line between the time before and the time after. They were no longer the people they had been. The bath was a new beginning. It was not borne of their own plans, but it was necessary. And Andromeda would do everything in her power to make the most positive outcome possible. Having the girl under her and desperate was the first thing she needed. 

Andromeda pulled at the hair at the based of Hermione’s head causing her mouth to pull her nipple before letting it go. The sensation brushing against pain made her growl and she couldn’t soften her voice. “Out of the water. I can’t have you drowning and I’m not nearly done with you.” 

Hermione flushed more at the statement than she thought possible. The possessive tone, the need, the taboo of the person. Andromeda was the only thing that she wanted. The world she would wake up to in the morning terrified her. But it was somehow it was less daunting with Andromeda. Who knew so much, who was so competent, who made her heart push blood through her veins again. 

But she followed the witch willingly (as was becoming a habit). They left the water behind. Hermione would have stayed drenched were it not for the drying spell Andromeda cast over them both. She was wandless after all. Bellatrix had reclaimed her own wand post-haste. But the young witch didn’t have the time to contemplate being wandless in a house full of the Black family, because she was being guided into a bed.

In normal circumstances, she would have been amazed at the beauty of the room, but it was impossible to think of such things with Andromeda’s warm naked body wrapped around her from behind. The kisses at the back of her neck were turning into nips and bites that made her entire body shake. The hands tracing her front and lingering on her breasts were holding her in place and driving her insane. It was like Andromeda knew exactly what would make every thought in Hermione’s mind flee. The older witch kept her standing there staring at the bed until she could barely stand under her own power and she could feel her own arousal slick between her thighs. 

“I think you are ready now, aren’t you Hermione.” Andromeda’s voice was playful and just a bit taunting as Hermione was pushed forward toward the bed. 

She crawled on all fours trying to find her balance (and maybe her brain). Just as she was about to turn over to stare back at her lover, hands landed on her hips stilling her movement. Hermione froze, unsure of what to do. 

“Get comfortable, love,” Andromeda said leaning over her back. “I think you can stay just like this for now.”

Hermione moaned out a breath and dropped her forehead to the bed. She tried to solidify her stance, which meant spreading her legs more fully and placing her weight on her hands, arms locked. 

Andromeda watched silently as the witch rearranged herself. She suspected that she didn’t have a great deal of experience in intimacy, but was thoroughly impressed with her instincts. She looked fit to devour and Andromeda knew she was certainly equal to that challenge. She weighed her options with such an inviting position. There were so many things she wanted to do to the witch. She let Hermione stew for a few minutes and enjoyed watching the deep breaths that expanded the rib cage in front of her. 

When she was certain that Hermione wasn’t expecting to be touched, she leaned down and ran her tongue firmly from clit to cunt. The dramatic reaction beautifully had Hermione dropping onto her elbows granting even greater access. Andromeda set to consume the gift in front of her. She explored the folds in front her messily, pulling sounds from Hermione the girl didn’t know she was capable of making. She walked her close to the point of climax before backing off and then building her again. She continued the cycle 3 times before she spoke. 

“You can’t come again without me in you,” she growled. 

“Please. Please,” Hermione whimpered. “I want to feel you.” 

“You’ll be feeling me for days, love.” 

Hermione heard the threat and craved it. She pushed her hips back begging for what Andromeda was offering. She was surprised by the tender initial touch of fingertips on her clit. They moved tortuously and made her rotate her hips seeking more. The pure pleasure was countered by a sharp slap to her upper thigh. She cried out, though it was need not pain. She wasn’t entirely sure she could separate the two at the moment. 

“You are mine to take,” Andromeda growled threatening. 

Before she could say more, explain what she wanted Hermione stopped all movement. She whimpered, “Your’s.” Reflecting back the Andromeda’s own desires. 

The permission, the desire, the wet cunt in front of her broke Andromeda’s resolve. She pushed into Hermione hard, burying her first two fingers entirely. The witch moaned loudly but held position impressively well. Andromeda wanted to reward such behavior richly. She pumped her fingers lightly feeling the walls of the girl stretch and contract around her. 

She used the movement to distract the girl while she gathered her magic. She hadn’t used sex magic since she was a teenager, but there were certain skills that time did not erase. She used the elemental need to fill the girl to power the spell. She gritted her teeth against the discomfort of her body changing. When she looked down at the member she transfigured for herself, she was surprised as the size, but not exactly sorry. She had promised the girl she would remember her. And this was certainly one way. 

Andromeda stilled her now soaked fingers, wiping them against the lovely ass in front of her. She curved her body over the kneeling body of the girl molding their hips together. Hermione’s breath caught as Andromeda slid her newest appendage between her legs nudging her clit. The contact made Hermione physically shake in need and Andromeda felt a rush of wetness coat her. It was impossible to stay still in such conditions. She rubbed gently testing Hermione’s reaction. Every move Andromeda made was met with a counter movement and increasingly loud moans. 

She knew that it would be very easy to climax like this. Hermione was perfectly warm, wet, and willing. But Andromeda had higher aims for her return to sapphic activities. She would be inside her when she reached a peak and not a moment before. She separated them to gather herself and to take the girl properly. She panted for a few moments. Hermione stayed obediently still aside from the rapid expansion of her chest with each breath. Andromeda paused long enough that Hermione craned her neck to look back. The older witch was stuck by the clear need and undisguised desire on the beautiful face. She quickly decided she had prepared quite enough. 

Andromeda palmed her temporary cock gently placing it at Hermione’s entrance. The give was instantaneous, but it was the spark of magic laced joy that erupted from their joining that caught Andromeda off guard. She knew such things were possible, but never expected to experience it personally. It eradicated any notion she had of going slow. She sunk fully into Hermione pressing their hips together. 

“Oh Andromeda,” the young witch moaned grasping the bedsheets in clenched fists. “Oh, fuck.” She continued as her pussy clenched hard around Andromeda. She hadn’t known how much she wanted this, but she now knew it was the only thing that she needed. Just this. 

Thankfully, Andromeda did not linger for long. Hermione knew her moans must have granted some sort of permission that she was simply too far gone to put into words. Andromeda pulled all the way out then pushed back in hard, stretching Hermione slightly differently. She repeated the process without speed but with strength and precision that kept Hermione close to the edge. The young witch couldn’t help but writhe against the pleasure. With Andromeda’s hands on her hips, in her current position, she was unable to move in any significant manner. Just as she was frantic with need, Andromeda made one final adjustment in angle, rubbing her cock against Hermione’s front wall with every stroke. The reaction was explosive. Hermione’s climax washed over her more intensely than she had expected. While she was seeing stars, she felt all of her muscles clenching hard. Andromeda stretched over her back and stilled deep with in her. The deep shuddering moan in her ear, aural evidence of the witch’s orgasm was the most erotic thing Hermione had ever expirienced prolonging her own pleasure. 

They collapsed in a sweaty pile and Hermione curled into Andromeda’s arms getting as close as possible. The older witch happily held her close letting them both settle. When Hermione started gently kissing her neck and collar bones, Andromeda knew that she had chosen well when she brought the girl with her into the new world. 

“I still want you,” Hermione whispered against her skin. “Please?”

The plea was so sweet that Andromeda nearly forgot how to respond, though it got her wet enough. 

“By all means,” she finally responded voice rough. She felt the smile against her skin. It was impossible to not feel joy at such a genuine reaction. 

“Andromeda…” 

“Call me Andy. I think we can agree you’ve earned the use of my nickname,” the older witch said sweetly. 

“Andy,” Hermione said again into the damp skin. “The way you just had me was unbelievably hot, but I want my mouth on you. The real you,” she said gently. 

Andromeda grabbed her wand and reversed the transfiguration smoothly. As erotic as the episode had been, there was always physical relief in returning to her original state. She would question the witch in depth later about her preferences, but she was happy enough with the initiative to leave it for now. 

Hermione smiled broadly at the magic. The flow and scent of it were as magnificently beautiful as the woman in front of her. She returned her lips to the sweat damp skin. Salt and the taste of the woman’s skin filled her senses. She explored soft, full breasts with hands and lips. She enjoyed the texture and reactions of her exploration. While she was taking her time, Andy had become impatient. Her hips were pressing up into Hermione clearly seeking pressure. The desire was enough to send her down across the skin of Andromeda’s stomach. It was soft and gently curved with the evidence of the child she had so very long ago. Hermione took her time treasuring the skin, nipping red marks across her torso. 

When she finally finally settled between the witches legs, Hermione couldn’t help looking up at her smugly. The arched brow she got in return made her blood run hot. She had liked being taken thoroughly from behind. More than that, she had liked that it was this enchanting witch. She settled in, not minding at all being on her knees again. What she knew she lacked in experience, she was confident she could make up for in enthusiasm and foreplay. She took her time to really look at the wet pink skin in front of her. She sighed in reverence at the beautiful sight. The resulting shudder made her vibrate with power, she was beginning to understand the depth of Andromeda's want of her. 

The first taste of the older witch’s cunt was a revelation. Hermione was largely certain that she only preferred the fairer sex after her typical teenager exploration of heterosexual attraction. But the taste and feel of the most intimate parts of Andromeda had her head spinning. Having such tender parts of the witch in her mouth was intoxicating. After the initial rush of sensation had apparently abated, Andromeda shifted to prop herself up. Hermione was thrown off at first, but realized that the witch wanted to watch her. The thrill of being observed only made her press forward with more enthusiasm. She explored every nook and cranny with her tongue alone. Her hands were hooked under pale thighs ensuring that Andy didn’t move out of reach. Hermione glanced up when the older witch’s hips attempted to find a rhythm. Taking a hint, she stared deeply into the dark eyes and started to trace out a deliberate pattern across the witch’s clit. 

Andromeda held her breath for a moment and then let out a deep moan. Her hands that had been passively at her side were buried in wavy hair guiding the pretty face between her legs. Seeing the witch so willingly between her legs was delicious. And with the right instruction, she was most certainly going to orgasm again. She let the girl lick enthusiastically until she just could not take it any more. 

“Put your fingers inside me, Hermione,” she commanded, voice sure. 

Hermione’s licking stuttered but did not stop. She snuck her right hand beneath her mouth and tentatively pushed a single digit into Andromeda. She was so wet and gripped her finger immediately. 

“Don’t be shy. I want you in me. Don’t disappoint me, Hermione.” Andromeda sounded just like a professor pushing her to do more and Hermione did not want to resist the challenge. She pushed a second finger in and changed the angle of her mouth so that she could push more firmly into the witch. She could only reach her clit in this position, so she sucked it firmly into her mouth. As she pushed and pulled with her fingers, she tapped out a strong pattern with her tongue. In shockingly short order, Andromeda was pulling her hair and shouting a climax.

Hermione slowed her mouth and removed her fingers but stayed long enough to clean the evidence of Andromeda’s pleasure from her. When she climbed up the witch’s body and back into her arms, Andromeda caught her in a deep kiss. 

“I taste so good on your lips,” Andromeda whispered as they parted. 

Hermione wanted to say something clever in response, but instead she yawned loudly. Andromeda chuckled adoringly at her. 

“It has been a long day, hasn’t it? Let me cast a couple of cleansing spells, then we can get some sleep.” She reached for her wand without separating from the witch in her arms. She cast the spells, drying their bodies and sheets enough for sleep. She pulled up the covers over them and cast a light warming spell. 

For the first time in many nights, Hermione fell asleep at peace, safe and secure in the last place she could have ever imagined.


	3. (In the Best Way) You’ll be the Death of Me

Living under Narcissa’s roof was nothing like Hermione could have imagined. From the first day, the blonde made it clear that Hermione and Andromeda were to be fully integrated into the household. Hermione suspected that she wasn’t exactly free, but she was treated shockingly like a human. She could barely believe that her former bully looked at her sympathetically and made hesitant attempts at conversation. In the first week, Hermione walked around on pins and needles waiting for someone (aside from Bellatrix) to comment on her blood status or other inherent flaw. But nothing came. Hermione was too afraid to ask for fear they had simply forgotten to harass her.

For the first month, Narcissa did not communicate directly with her. She spoke exclusively to Andromeda. She frequently felt the blonde’s eyes on her in appraisal. It wasn’t quite judgment, but Hermione didn’t know beyond that what it was. She watched the bond between the sisters strengthen quickly. She imagined on the nights she couldn’t sleep, even stated and wrapped in the arms of her lover, what the young Black sisters might have been like. Andromeda was blossoming under the kindness and renewed familial bonds.

Hermione was pressed firmly into wall being snogged within an inch of her life the next time Narcissa addressed her directly. Andromeda had become more of a risk taker in public and Hermione couldn’t bring herself to deny the witch anything. 

“Well well, Hermione. I would have not imagined that you were brave enough to bed a Black. Mark me impressed,” the blond said looking at them contemplatively. “And not the sister I would have imagined.” Mysteriously the blonde walked away without saying more.

And yet it seemed the flood gates had opened and Hermione would be considered a part of the family. More than that, the way Narcissa watched her turned tropically hot. Hermione (in spite of her instincts) could not object to the attention. If anything, it only made Narcissa more intriguing and she had to restrain herself from following the blonde around like a lost puppy. She didn’t mention the change to Andromeda, even though it felt like the witch was pushing her towards Narcissa at every opportunity. It would have been odd in the world that had died. But in this new strange existence, Hermione simply accepted what was. 

She could hardly be blamed for spending time in the nicely appointed library. In those early days, it was one of the few places she still felt like herself. Not to mention that the Black sisters were busy and her loyalty was apparently still somewhat suspect. And so most of her days were filled with the majestic tomes in the Malfoy library. She learned the long history of the pureblooded reign of magical Britain in hopes that she might unlock some secret that would help her navigate her way through this new world. She next moved into texts about ancient runes. She had always enjoyed the subject in school and it didn’t require a wand. She still hadn’t been given one and was hesitant to even ask. 

Standing in front of a section of the large built in bookcases, she attempted to use little bits of wandless magic hoping to avoid touching any books that do her harm. It was something of a relief to call her magic and taste it in her mouth even if there was little result. 

“Miss Granger how fortunate I found you just now,” a gentle drawl sounded over her shoulder. 

The smell of the expensive lilac perfume Narcissa wore wafted over Hermione. She closed her eyes at the impact of it. It was intoxicating. She dared not move, as the witch stood so closely behind her she could have sworn that she felt the heat of the blonde’s body. 

“Being found by you is always fortunate,” Hermione said boldly but quietly. She couldn’t deny her desire for the blonde’s attention at such closeness. 

A warm chuckle washed over her and settled low in her stomach. A hand gentle but firm grasped her right hip and slowly spun her until they were facing. The motion caused their bodies to brush and left them standing just a little too close for a normal conversation. 

“In this case, it is particularly true,” Narcissa said eyebrows slightly raised. “You nearly chose a cursed book off that shelf. I would have spent the better part of a week trying to recover you.” 

Hermione dropped her eyes to the floor. She was embarrassed at her lack of wand and access to her magic. She wasn’t used to being the least informed in the room, and yet it was becoming something of a habit. She didn’t try to make excuses or explain. She was certain Narcissa already knew why it had nearly happened. 

Two cool fingers under her chin raised her face again. They stayed where they were until she opened her eyes. Then Narcissa gently stroked her cheek holding her eye contact. Hermione melted into the affection, pressing her cheek into the palm. 

“Has my wayward sister told you about the Black sisters,” Narcissa said lowly pressing their bodies together. 

Hermione shook her head too stunned and distracted by the warm body against her’s to speak. 

Narcissa leaned closer to speak quietly directly in her ear. “The Black sisters share… everything. I know our Andy has had you.” 

Hermione drew in a sharp breath, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the feeling of the lips lightly brushing her ear or from the possessiveness in the tone. The blonde treated it as an invitation, stitching their bodies together as though they were always meant to be intertwined. 

“You don’t understand yet, not really. But you will,” Narcissa said nearly touching their lips together. “Even so, I can feel how willing you are.” 

Hermione couldn’t refute her confusion or desire. Her hands were clutching at the expensive fabric of the witch’s robes. She certainly was making no effort to put any space between them. And she hadn’t taken her eyes off the lips so nearly touching her own. She longed for the taste of them. She longed to feel real and grounded in the way she did when she was under Andromeda’s body. The daydream of what it would be like under the blonde instead caused a small whimper to escape her lips. 

“Oh my darling little witch,” Narcissa cooed. “As lovely as that fantasy is, I assure you I have a decidedly different style than my sister.” She finally touched their lips together lightly exploring. “If you want my cock, you will have to work for it.” 

Hermione’s body shook with desire and she lowered her forehead to the witch’s shoulder trying to control her body’s reactions. 

“I would much rather watch you struggle to take my whole hand.”

Hermione moaned without restraint and pushed more firmly into the blonde. She was coming to the conclusion that the Black sisters were irrationally sexy. And she was entirely certain that she didn’t have the will to resist any of them. 

“Stop thinking about my sisters when you are with me,” Narcissa hissed in her ear before delivering a punishing bite. Hermione jerked and shuddered against her. “We may share many things, but do not mistake it for a lack of possessiveness. When you are with me, you are mine alone. And you will act as such.”

“Yes, Narcissa,” Hermione whispered truly meaning it. She would mean anything to make the formidable witch do more than turn her on with just her words. 

“Mmm that’s much better,” the blonde purred while starting to run her hands over Hermione’s body. “You know, my sisters never come in this room.” 

Hermione gasped at a hand closing over her breast. “I’ve never seen anyone here except for you,” she confirmed. 

“Then I needn’t ward the door shall I? Perhaps just a little silencing spell, since I have no intention of you being quiet. Who knows maybe one of them will interrupt us while I am inside you. Would you like that?” 

The young witch started at the idea. “No,” she gasped.

Narcissa grinned and it was not entirely friendly. “Perhaps I will ward for privacy in that case. But I am having you on this table. You’ll think of stretching for me every time you come in here, won’t you? Now when you come here to escape us, you’ll be wet thinking about how I use your body.” 

Hermione lunged for the cruel lips kissing Narcissa with every bit of need she felt. She luxuriated in being momentarily victorious as the blonde enthusiastically returned the kiss and held her head so that she could not escape. 

But her moment was short lived as Narcissa easily took control back. She laid a hand flat on her chest, holding her in place as she backed off the kiss. Blue eyes sparkled with mischief and what could only be described as nefarious intent. 

The blonde took two steps back adjusting her robes as she went. She never broke eye contact even as the distance between them grew. Narcissa waited letting Hermione stew a bit as she took in the high color on her cheeks and the obvious desire on her face. 

“Take off your clothes. Now,” Narcissa commanded in a tone the brokered no argument or disobedience. 

Hermione stepped forward hesitantly as she fingered the edge of her shirt already starting to remove it from her body. She dropped her gaze from the blue eyes finding to too intimate even as she had pulled her shirt over her head. She kicked off her shoes, which were quickly followed by her pants feeling the icy gaze never leave her. She paused standing in just her underwear glancing up at the fully clothed woman in front of her. Narcissa was openly staring with significant appreciation. 

“Did I tell you to stop,” the blonde growled. Her tone was deeper and rougher than before, but no less compelling. 

Hermione’s hands visibly shook as she removed the last two scraps of clothing. She watched the blonde trace her eyes over her body. It was almost as she could feel the cool slender hands everywhere. 

Narcissa stepped forward and Hermione fought the urge to shrink back. 

“Aren’t you lovely like this? And so vulnerable. No wand. No clothes.” The blonde commented while idly stroking down Hermione’s sternum and stomach. “Nothing at all to protect you from the likes of me,” she said while turning her hand to cup Hermione intimately. She smirked at the wetness she found. “It seems you don’t object to being in my clutches.” 

“No,” Hermione choked out while attempting to press more firmly against the hand. 

“I did not think you would,” Narcissa said removing her hand. She led Hermione over to her favorite table as promised. “Sit,” she said pointing at the surface of the table. 

As Hermione scrambled to do as she was asked, Narcissa undid the four buttons that held together her outer robes. Without taking her eyes from Hermione, she undid the delicate buttons at the cuffs of her dress and rolled up the sleeve to her elbows. 

The young witch shuddered when she realize that Narcissa wasn’t even going to get undressed. She squirmed her warm skin against the cool wood of the table beneath her ass. She froze as the blonde closed in on her looking rather predatory. Narcissa said nothing, but placed cool hands on Hermione’s knees parting them easily before stepping in between them. Using her hips to hold Hermione’s legs open, Narcissa moved her hand to the nape of the witch’s head. She tugged at the hair stretching her neck back. 

“Oh Hermione,” Narcissa mumbled against the pale neck licking and nipping. With one hand anchored in her hair, the blonde started a possessive exploration of Hermione’s body, never quite touching where the young witch wanted her too. Good to her word, Narcissa had the witch moaning and begging vocally. 

Unable to bear the torture of Narcissa’s hands and mouth on her, but not anywhere it really counted, Hermione attempted to close and buck her hips in search of friction. She couldn’t reach anything to give her relief, but received a sharp slap to her bare thigh for her trouble. 

“Don’t make me punish you, Hermione,” Narcissa threatened. “You aren’t prepared for how I will punish you.” 

Hermione ducked her head, not doubting a syllable of the implications. 

“If you want something so badly, Hermione, why don’t you just ask,” the blonde said while smirking. It was plainly obvious that she had the witch metaphorically cornered. 

Hermione took a deep calming breath trying to find her center enough to form full sentences. 

“Please, Narcissa,” she breathed out. “I want what you promised. I want all of you in me.”

The blonde smiled genuinely at the desperate request. She placed both her arms over Hermione’s shoulders and kissed her deeply. It was warm and probing in the way the kisses hadn’t been so far. Hermione melted against her shaking with desire. 

“Now you are ready, aren’t you Hermione,” Narcissa cooed pushing the young witch’s legs further apart giving her room to navigate more easily. 

Struggling to find words again, Hermione opened her legs as widely as she could offering herself. 

Narcissa skimmed her fingers over the witch’s slick clit on her way to push inside. She entered firmly with two fingers moaning at how wet the witch was. 

Hermione moaned deeply and leaned back on her hands offering her hips up more freely. She nearly fell back when Narcissa added a third finger and started to push more firmly into her. The blonde rested a thumb on her clit tapping lightly and frequently changing angles of her thrusting. Hermione could feel herself relaxing and craving Narcissa more and deeper. 

“Please, Narcissa,” she begged. “I need more.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow but carefully folded in her pinky and thrust slowly. It was a tight fit, but Hermione accommodated the change. Once she felt the young witch relax around her fingers, Narcissa started thrusting harder. She wanted the witch to vividly remember how she had been taken. 

“You look lovely, Hermione,” Narcissa said as she pushed hard. “With your body slick and struggling for more. Everytime I look at you from now on, I will think of you just like this.” 

Hermione’s breath stuttered and she attempted to push harder against the fingers to take them deeper. Squeaking in frustration when she didn’t feel any further forward progress. 

“Hush, Hermione. You will take my hand in time. You aren’t going anywhere. I can make you practice any time I want. Be a good witch and touch yourself while I fuck you. I want to focus on being as deep as I can.” 

“Yes, Narcissa,” the witch answered as she moved her weight off her arms. She put her left arm around Narcissa’s shoulder gasping at the change in angle and drew her right hand between her legs. She groaned as Narcissa picked up the pace and she moved her own fingers against her sex. Within moments she was trembling on the edge of oblivion. 

“Hermione, don’t you dare orgasm without permission,” Narcissa hissed. She sounded as threatening as Hermione had ever heard her. 

“Please, Narcissa. Please… I need…” Hermione trailed off breathing hard. 

“Oh I am sure you do,” the blonde sneered. “To whom do you belong?”

Hermione thrust her hips struggling to breathe and think at the same time. And she didn’t even know how to answer that question truthfully. She took a deep breath and whispered,

“You.” 

“Come for me, Hermione,” Narcissa answered immediately. 

As the words came out of her lips, Hermione shuddered and her muscles clamped hard around Nacissa’s fingers. The blonde wrung every last bit of pleasure out of the witch before removing her fingers. She steadied the witch with one hand as she placed the others at her lip. Hermione didn’t hesitate taking them in her mouth. She didn’t mind the taste of herself if she got her mouth anywhere on Narcissa’s body, even just her fingers. 

The blonde smirked at her knowingly while looking affectionately at the havoc she wrought. The young witch looked positively debauched. Her skin was a lovely flushed pink and chest still heaving. She kissed her lightly, before moving to her favorite reading chair. She sat comfortably before curling her finger beckoning Hermione over to her. She enjoyed watching her awkwardly get off the table and walking gingerly to where she was sitting. 

Narcissa said nothing, but scooted to the edge of the chair and lifted her skirts. She was pleased when Hermione dropped dramatically to her knees. The blonde had no doubt that bruises would bloom there. She allowed the eager hands to run over her legs and continue to move her clothing aside. 

“Don’t waste my time, Hermione.” 

The young witch moved with intent following the implied command. She put her mouth directly between Narcissa’s legs with expedience. She felt a shiver travel through the body above her, even though there was still cloth between her tongue and Narcissa’s heat. She summoned every bit of magic within her and willed the clothing away. She was rewarded with a gasp and hand in her ear when her mouth his wet flesh. 

Hermione moaned freely while licking enthusiastically causing Narcissa to hold her more tightly in place. The young witch changed the angle of her mouth in order to be able to sneak two fingers against Narcissa. 

“Oh Hermione,” Narcissa chanted above her head, digging her nails into her scalp. “Oh yes,” she purred as she gave into the climax rushing through her. 

Hermione stilled her fingers and rested her cheek against a pale thigh breathing deeply. And reveling in the closeness of the blonde and her attention. She struggled to imagine how she could balance this with her relationship with Andromeda, but when a hand stroked her hair affectionately she was willing to find a way or at least forget for a few minutes.


	4. Do you remember me as devout?

Leaving the library, Hermione attempted not to move too awkwardly. She had hoped to escape into her (And Andromeda’s) rooms. She was dressed, but was certain that she needed a bath and a change of clothes. She moved slowly down a dark hallway on her way to the staircase. 

“Well well well muddy girl,” Bellatrix said materializing out of nowhere. “Don’t you look positively debauched.” 

Hermione froze at the tone. The dark witch sounded every bit as dangerous as Hermione knew her to be. Her loss of momentum allowed the older witch to catch up with her and circle her. 

“Oh yes,” Bellatrix continued leaning close. “You are clearly well fucked and if I am not mistaken are freshly from between my darling baby sister’s legs.”

Hermione flushed caught between the sheer embarrassment, mild discomfort and interest in what Bellatrix might want. The curly headed witch hadn’t been in the house much and when she had, Hermione hadn’t been her focus. 

“Come along, Hermione,” the dark witch said passing the staircase towards a part of the house Hermione never went into. 

Reluctantly Hermione followed. The past few weeks had been… nice (in spite of how she had arrived at them). And she didn’t want to do anything to ruin it. She wanted (needed) the comfort and love from Andromeda. Having experienced Narcissa, she already knew that there would no doubt be even greater closeness between them. 

She was so wrapped up in thoughts of Narcissa and Andromeda that she hadn’t really been paying attention to where Bellatrix was leading her. She had been cautious in her movement in the house and certainly hadn’t gone exploring on her own. 

When she crossed the threshold into the high ceiling dark room, it was as empty of furniture has it had been the first time Bellatrix had brought her here. Hermione knew she was holding her breath, but couldn’t find the strength to make her limbs move. 

Bellatrix turned to look at her. Hermione saw curiosity, desire and something else she couldn’t quite name. “Muddy, come here. There is nothing to be afraid of with me here.” 

Hermione wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the statement. She had been tortured by the witch in front of her in this very room. She could easily admit that circumstances had changed drastically, but having one’s trauma so clearly summoned. She did not, could not possibly move her feet, though she felt compelled to obey. She watched carefully as the dark witch strode towards her. Hermione knew that she had no means of protecting herself and froze in place hoping calm would deescalate the situation brewing. 

Bellatrix moved more slowly than usual, congratulating herself on the restraint few believed she had. The girl was acting like a scared animal, which wasn’t entirely irrational based on their last encounter in the room. When she was within reach, the dark witch reached for the arm she had marked and cursed with gentle touches. She brought their bodies close together as she examined the still angry letters. The cuts would never heal, not truly, in their current state. It was clear that neither of her sisters had attempted to undo her magic which pleased her. The hand in hers shook lightly and the skin turned clammy.

“Hermione,” she murmured as comfortingly as she could. “You are under my protection. Aside from having given my word to take you in and reform you, my Lord has commanded that you are kept in good health. I would risk neither my commitment to my family name nor my standing with him.” She touched the angry skin gently. “You were my enemy. I may not be the sensitive Black sister, but you must understand that I do know the difference between enemy and charge.” 

The young witch drew in a deep stuttered breath. The witch in front of her made a disconcerting amount of sense. She did her best to relax in her hold. If she couldn’t fight back, she certainly wasn’t interested in provoking either. 

“Good girl. You don’t have to be quite so afraid. My sisters would be rather cross with me if any serious harm were to come to you.”

Bellatrix moved one hand away to retrieve her wand. She twirled it idling weighing her options. The muscles under her finger tips tensed again. 

“Hush, girl. I am going to remove the curse.” 

Hermione stared at her in disbelief. 

“But the scar, I’ll leave,” Bellatrix concluded quietly. “I don’t want you to forget how the bond with the Black house began. I wouldn’t want you to think we hadn’t adequately claimed you.” 

The young witch shuddered in fear and desire unsure of which one would win out in the end. It was dehumanizing to realize that this witch in front of her had the ability to not just lift the curse but to heal her, and she refused. She would no longer be able to deny that the slur was permanent. In her contemplation and something like grief about her situation, she missed the start of the gentle wand movements and mouthed words. She looked up in awe as the ache of the wound retreated. The witch in front of her look extremely pleased with herself. 

“There are few that can inflict such a curse on another, and even fewer who can lift it weeks afterwards,” Bellatrix cooed obviously impressed with her own abilities. Releasing the arm, she shifted to pull the girl to her. “Now, muddy girl, you will only hurt when I want you to.”

Hermione couldn’t help the sigh at being held securely. Bellatrix felt so much like Narcissa with her eyes closed. The hold loosened and the witch stepped back. Hermione took in for the first time the depth of the dark eyes. There was a playful sparkle she had only seen from a distance and always directed at the other Black women. 

“As… touching as this has been,” Bellatrix resumed speaking normally, “I did not bring you here for tender moments. You have gotten complacent in your time under my roof. I dare say some would call your behavior lazy, and I can’t have that. I will be in charge of your education. I know you are a swot, so my expectations are extremely high.”

Hermione looked at her pensively attempting to find the catch. 

“Your successes will be rewarded and your failures punished, and I do so like punishing.” Bellatrix grinned menacingly. “You should ask my sisters how they enjoyed being educated,” she cackled.

Hermione internally vowed to do no such thing. She wasn’t ready to give voice to the complexity of her relationship with the three women in any way. And she certainly wasn’t going to start with something that would likely be a traumatic injury. 

“First,” Bellatrix continued assuming she was being listed to, “we will start with dueling. You are overly weak in this area and your lack of knowledge of the dark arts has you heavily disadvantaged. I will be fixing that.” 

The young witch refocused on Bellatrix attempting to absorb the information. Learning the dark arts seemed like the final betrayal in a string that began in that very room. It was almost poetic that she had been brought here. The gleam in Bellatrix’s eyes suggested that she was not unaware. 

“I don’t suppose you are good enough at wandless magic to even attempt a duel, are you?”

Hermione knew that she was being taunted, but wasn’t willing to tempt punishment.

“No, ma’am. I haven’t had much training in wandless magic,” she whispered. Her eyes were glued on the floor. She couldn’t quite explain why she felt so ashamed that she didn’t know dark magic. 

“I would lend you mine, as I am fully capable with or without my wand. But as I recall… it didn’t like you much, did it my muddy girl.”

“No, Bellatrix,” she admitted quietly. 

“Well,” the dark witch huffed, “I suppose you will have to use this one.” 

Hermione slowly raised her eyes to see the piece of wood in the witch’s outstretched hand. She could barely believe her eyes. Bellatrix Black was handing her own wand to her. She hadn’t held out any hope that it had survived the war. Gingerly she reached out for the wood. She wanted to snatch it away into her care, but moved carefully, not wanting to startle the powerful witch in front of her. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked back up. She wanted to say something that showed her gratitude, but stopped at the thunderous look on Bellatrix’s face.

The dark witch re-entered her personal space and placed the tip of her wand threateningly beneath Hermione’s chin. “You belong to me, witch. I marked you and you were gifted to me by the most powerful wizard to have ever lived. Do not mistake what that means.” 

Hermione shuddered and held her tongue. The wood of her wand was warm in her hand and she felt her magic thrumming through her body. She would play this anyway the dark witch wanted if only to keep her wand. 

Even so, she was shocked by the brutal kiss against her lips. It was more teeth than she had ever experienced and when it broke she tasted a faint hint of her own blood in her mouth. By the time she opened her eyes, Bellatrix was several paces away and looked feral. 

“Raise your wand, muddy. Defend yourself,” she commanded abruptly. 

Hermione did as she was told barely managing to keep the first spell at bay. She took a deep breath trying to recollect herself. She was clearly not a match for Bellatrix and would have to do her best to minimize the damage. The witch had taken away the pain, but would no doubt be doling out more before the evening was over. 

For nearly ten minutes, Hermione used a few muggle tricks and everything she had learned from the DA to avoid catastrophic failure. But she tired quickly and was unable to get a protego up quickly enough to prevent the petrificus totalus. 

Her body thudded to the floor and immediately Bellatrix was straddling her in a familiar position. Before she released Hermione, she leaned close to her ear and licked up the side of her neck. While she released the curse, the dark witch continued to physically restrain her, pushing their wands away. 

“Mmm you taste like my Cissa. Did you like having your mouth on her? She is bewitching. Is she not?”

“Yes,” Hermione gasped out. 

“How did she fuck you, hmm?” Bellatrix appeared to be contemplating out loud as opposed to asking. “I saw the way you were walking. Did she make you sore? The world thinks she is a delicate flower, but they couldn’t be further from the truth. Divesto.” The dark witch murmured as an afterthought. 

Hermione jerked up trying to get away from the cold floor. The result was getting closer to the warm body above her. Bellatrix lowered them back to the ground, forcing her skin to fully press into the cold stone. Dark eyes bore into her for a few moments until red stained lips descended. The gentleness shocked Hermione, but she was easily ensnared in the web of Bellatrix’s seduction. She felt all of the muscles in her body relax and the growing flame of arousal to burst to life. Hermione was loathe to admit how incredibly attractive she found Bellatrix executing magic. 

“Oh muddy, you are delicious,” Bellatrix mumbled against her lips kissing already sore places on her neck and jaw. 

Any hope Hermione had of not having love marks was quickly dispelling. She tried to twist away as cruel nails skated down her sides roughly. She couldn’t help squirming against the leg between her’s. Her body was already on fire again, which was beyond her imagination. 

“Is there something you need, Hermione,” Bellatrix asked in false innocence. 

“Oh please,” Hermione mumbled not knowing exactly how to express what she needed. 

Bellatrix paused before grinning. It was apparent that she had what she considered to be a wonderful idea. She paused kissing the skin beneath her lips long enough to lift her long skirts away from the bare skin. She sighed happily when wet skin made contact with her leg. “Go ahead, dirty girl. Rut against my leg.” 

Hermione moaned loudly and did as she said whimpering. 

“You are sore aren’t you,” Bellatrix mumbled against her skin. “Narcissa used you hard, didn’t she. I bet you wanted her entire hand, didn’t you. Were you able to do it?” 

“No,” Hermione gasped. “Wanted to…” 

Bellatrix chuckled pushing her leg more firmly against the grinding witch below her. “Don’t worry, muddy. You will. I can always lend a helping hand,” she added threateningly. “I would be happy to hold you down and let her have her way. Just tell me when and where, I will clear my schedule.” 

Hermione tried to catch her breath at the crass suggestion, but it was too late and her orgasm was washing over her. Bellatrix kissed her again making her lungs burn. 

“Be a good witch,” Bellatrix said moving swiftly above her head and pulling her dress deftly off over her head. Unabashedly, the dark witch lowered her crotch onto Hermione’s mouth. 

Hermione took the hint and opened her mouth. Bellatrix tasted so similar to Narcissa with an undertone of cinnamon and something wild. She looked up into the dark eyes that seemed unwavering in their attention to her. She moved her hands to grip the grinding ass holding her close. She wanted Bellatrix to know that she was more than just a plaything and that she was fully present. 

The dark head bent forward in pleasure. “Oh muddy girl, this is always how we were meant to end. This is how I should have had you to begin with. Willing and beautifully under me. Do you have any idea how sexy it is to have you well fucked and on your back? Or how much I will enjoy sending you back to my darling sister’s room smelling of me?” 

Hermione didn’t mind the taunts until they turned against Andromeda. Without thinking she applied her teeth less than gently to the clit in her mouth. The resulting scream was more mixed with pleasure than she had anticipated and after only a few moments, Bellatrix collapsed next to her spent. 

Hermione turned to look at her, taking in the heaving chest and unfocused eyes. Instinctually, she moved closer, pressing their bodies together. A hesitant arm came around her holding her tightly. Hermione sighed and relaxed against the unpredictable witch. There was no denying that Bellatrix was violent and unrepentant, but she was also beautifully real. The warmth of her body, the fierce protectiveness of her family and the hand tracing through her hair was enough to soothe Hermione into relaxing.

“Don’t think I am soft, muddy,” the witch warned without moving. 

“I don’t,” Hermione said truthfully. She was no less intimidated than she had been earlier in the day. “I just know where I belong.” 

Bellatrix grunted some form of acknowledgment before getting them both to their feet. “I don’t have all day to lounge around like you do.”

Hermione looked up at her through her lashes. 

“And you need a bath, you reek of sex,” Bellatrix said sliding her own dress back on. She scooped up her own wand and tossed Hermione’s to her. As the dark witch walked out of the room she tossed over her shoulder, “We will have daily lessons until you are no longer an embarrassment.”

Hermione shivered at the promise and the chill of her nude body. With a flick of her wand, she had her clothing back on and felt more like herself than she had in recent memory.


	5. Tumbling Down

And so it continued through the summer. Hermione slept nightly wrapped in Andromeda’s love. She could hardly imagine what life was like before her. Andy was the perfect mix of passionate lover and doting caretaker. She knew exactly what Hermione needed without the young witch ever needing to open her mouth. Andy’s ability was convenient, amazing even the vast majority of the time. But it never left space for Hermione to awkwardly mention how both of her lover’s sisters had their way with her. While it was clear that Bellatrix was aware of her situation with Narcissa and Andromeda. And Narcissa was aware of Andromeda. Hermione wasn’t certain if Andromeda knew at all or if Narcissa knew about Bellatrix. 

The young witch rarely had time to even ponder the complications of the Black sisters. Shortly after her first lesson with Bellatrix, major changes were afoot in the magical world. The Dark Lord had solidified his reign and formally set up his full government. He honored Bellatrix with the Head of Magical Law Enforcement position. She wielded her title and power much like she did her wand. She clearly delighted in her work. It only furthered her claims as the head of the Black family and gave her the power to take out any lurking enemies. 

Bellatrix’s rise to power did not exempt Hermione from daily magic lessons. She took glee in taking the young witch at any time of day or night and putting her through her paces. At first Hermione dreaded the time never quite knowing when the other shoe would drop. But day after day, Bellatrix was exactly as she said she would be. She was a strict and demanding teacher, but she was not irrational when it came to Hermione’s education. She punished and rewarded at logical times. Hermione flourished under the attention and skill. 

Hermione was surprised when a week’s worth of lessons ended without a single sexual advance. Bellarix flirted plenty, but never made any real move to replicate their (second) first interaction. But on the ninth day after her first lesson, Narcissa had cornered Hermione in the library, bent her over the arm of a chair and fucked her until she barely remembered her own name. Once again Bellatrix detained her just as she was leaving the library. But instead of a(nearly) civil conversation, the dark witch pushed her into the nearest room, bound her to the wall pulling an orgasm from her all while commenting about her relationship with Narcissa.

Hermione realized there was a connection between Narcissa fucking her and Bellatrix doing so only a few hours later. Aside from thinking the eldest Black sister was significantly kinky, she didn’t know what to think of the behavior of the women she lived with. She was well aware that she was living by a set of rules that she didn’t know. And their attention was flattering and pleasurable. When she looked at any one of them, she realized that she didn’t want to deny them anything. 

She did her best to keep her balance (and their secrets). She yielded to their desire (and love) and attempted to learn how to live again. She kept her interactions with each of them as separate as she could. There was harmony in her balance of them and she felt the first flickering flames of happiness dancing around the edges of her consciousness. 

Hermione should have known that she was getting far too comfortable in the company of mischievous witches who loved nothing more than pushing her beyond where she had been before. Andromeda luring her into the library, a room she had never seen her lover in, should have been her first clue that something was not quite right. But she was too enthralled with the idea of her love in her favorite room to think overly hard about it. 

Nor did she consider it odd, when Andromeda spun her around as soon as she entered the room and kissed her soundly. It was everything she could do to keep her feet under her while melting into the kiss. At first Hermione thought that perhaps her attraction to the witch would fade with the aging grief, but instead it only grew the closer they became. She would have happily continued the luxurious kiss, had she not heard the distinctive sound of ice dropping into a crystal tumbler. She abruptly detached her lips and peered over Andromeda’s shoulder to the wet bar. To her horror, Narcissa stood glass in hand pouring herself a healthy portion of scotch. 

“Oh, by all means, don’t let me stop you,” she said leaning comfortably against the bar watching them with interest. 

Hermione shivered slightly at the tone. She still didn’t understand why she craved the haughty and vaguely disinterested way Narcissa treated her. But the idea of her intense blue eyes on her while Andromeda had her was beyond tempting. 

“You don’t mind, do you,” Andromeda asked in false innocence. 

“I…” Hermione trailed off willing her mind to catch up with what was going on. “I don’t know?” 

“Oh, little witch,” the blonde said moving towards them. “You could not have possibly thought that we didn’t know.” 

Hermione attempted to shake off her immediate reaction to the condescension. She hated that it made her wet, but she hadn’t yet found a way to escape her reaction. 

Narcissa continued her comfortable approach circling behind Hermione. She pressed her body gently into the young witch so she could whisper in her ear. “Did I not tell you that the Black sisters are close? How could you imagine that Andromeda didn’t know every single time I have had you.” 

Hermione was shaking with fear for the first time in months. She wasn’t sure how she could have been so naive as to think that her very clever lovers didn’t know everything that was going on under their roof. Her eyes darted anxiously to the dark eyes that had held together on the darkest days of her life. Eyes that she could not imagine existing without. At the look of what must have been abject fear, Andromeda warmly cupped her cheek. 

“Oh my sweet Hermione, even I forget how delightfully innocent you are. The Black sisters have no secrets. As we are all living under one roof, I can’t imagine how you would have been able to resist them.” She smiled fondly over Hermione’s shoulder at Narcissa. “And we have always been a competitive bunch. If Narcissa hadn’t wanted you, it would have been as good as her rejecting our match.” 

Hermione struggled to untangle her thoughts. Not only did Andromeda know all of it, but she expected… and blessed it. And she was speaking of their relationship as though it were… a proper relationship. 

“I am not entirely certain I agree, Andy. I don’t think our muddy girl is nearly as innocent as you think.” 

Though Hermione couldn’t see the witch, she had no doubt at her presence. There was something about Bellatrix. Hermione had come to believe that she could physically feel her when she was near. Hermione’s first instinct was to get the hell out of the library and whatever trap was closing in. It was perfectly clear now that the three Black sisters had orchestrated the current conversation and Hermione was not certain she wanted any part of it. 

“Not so quick, love,” Andromeda said before Hermione could even put her body into motion. 

“Bella, that is quite enough,” Narcissa chastised walking over to her sister. “Isn’t she frightened enough?”

The dark witch stood up from the chair she had been sitting in and threw her curls over her shoulder. “I, for one, prefer when she is a bit afraid. It makes her taste even better.” 

The blonde scoffed at the comment, but did not continue to pursue the conversation. 

“You all know?!” Hermione blurted the sentence before she entirely meant to. 

Bellatrix immediately cackled, clearly enjoying herself. “Well, it’s hardly any surprise you didn’t know, I suppose. My dear Andy is still learning her place and would not dare question my authority as head of house. At least not while she is still plotting how to wrestle some amount of power from my hands. And Narcissa is all control. You being uninformed preserves her advantage.” 

“And you,” Hermione said moving away from the safety of Andromeda’s arms. “Bellatrix, what are you?”

“But don’t you already know, muddy girl?” Bellatrix was on her feet and closing on her quickly. 

Hermione’s hands shook, but she held her ground. Bellatrix stopped only when their bodies were pressed together. 

“I’m the power,” Bellatrix whispered against her lips nipping menacingly. 

Hermione wanted to challenge the assertion but a warm body pressed into her from behind and she was melting already. 

“That’s a good witch,” Bellatrix said withdrawing. She sauntered back to her arm chair and plopped down. “I want to watch,” she said pointedly at her sisters. 

Andromeda bristled digging her fingers into Hermione’s hips, but Narcissa seemed nonplussed. The blonde brandished her wand with more flourish than was entirely necessary. She transfigured the closest table into a large luxurious bed. Narcissa looked at Hermione meaningfully and the witch started stripping without a single word spoken. 

“Oh Cissy,” Bellatrix sighed. “Who knew she could be so obedient. You have her well trained don’t you?”

Narcissa rolled her eyes at the comment, but was not distracted from the task in front of her. She was pleased the witch complied and waited patiently for whatever was next. Andromeda stood just behind her, eyes trained challengingly on Narcissa’s. The blonde tilted her head, allowing Andy to take the lead momentarily. 

With a smile, Andromeda cast a divesto that took all three sisters down to just their underwear. Hermione gasped openly at seeing Narcissa and Bellatrix nearly unclothed and in the same room. The blonde seemed unphased by her own nudity as though Andromeda’s actions were the most logical in the world. Bellatrix glared warningly, which made Hermione want to crawl on her hands and knees to her. The only thing that stopped her was warm hands holding her still. Andromeda pressed her barely clothed body to her back and started a teasing exploration. 

Bellatrix smiled wolfishly and slipped her hand in her own panties. Narcissa watched Hermione closely not moving, but the young witch felt her everywhere. 

“It hardly takes anything to get you wet,” the blonde commented condescendingly. “Have you been imagining all three of us together?” 

Hermione gasped trying to find words. She wished her imagination were good enough to have dreamt this up. She had been simply grasping to anything offered to her. 

“Answer my sister, girl,” Bellatrix barked from across the room. 

“No, Narcissa,” she whined. “I could have never imagined this was something that I could have. You’ve all given me so much. I...l.” Her voice trailed off and Andromeda pushed their bodies impossibly closer together. 

“That is why Narcissa insisted we call this little meeting,” Bellatrix interrupted again. “She insisted it was ‘time.’”

Again the blonde rolled her eyes. She would deal with her sister later, this was more important than Bella’s current game of one upmanship. 

“It’s time she understands,” Narcissa said never taking her eyes off of Hermione. Her gaze once cold and appraising was heating up. Hermione knew she was very wet at just what they were suggesting. 

“Please, Narcissa,” she asked quietly. 

The blue eyes danced with joy. “Please what, little witch?”

“I need you,” she whispered nearly silently. Hermione felt Andromeda squeeze her affectionately. 

Narcissa grinned sharply. “Just me? Shall I send them away?”

“No, please,” Hermioen gasped. The idea of Andromeda being torn away from her was more than she could bear and oddly she found she wanted Bellatrix close too. 

“Hermione,” Narcissa chastised, “you know you have to say what you want if there is any chance that I am going to give it to you.” 

The young witch flushed pink all the way down to her chest. “Please,” Hermione said slowly. “Can you all stay? I don't want any of you to leave.” She could feel Andromeda purr in pleasure at her back and nip at the nape of her neck. 

“Are you simply wanting us to witness the relationship brewing between you and Andromeda?” Nacissa continued pushing. “I assure you that no one has missed that you two are meant for one another.” 

Hermione paused. She had barely thought about what her relationship with Andy meant, only that she knew that she couldn’t do without her. “I need her,” she answered honestly. After another moment, she kept talking though she hadn’t intended to. “But she needs both of you. And I think I do too.” 

“Good, little witch,” Narcissa answered finally closing the space between them. “You didn’t know when you came to live in these walls, but we can never let you leave. You are ours.” She didn’t wait for a response this time, claiming a bruising kiss.

Hermione sunk in between the two sets of hands feeling more had than she’d ever been before. She peered around Narcissa to Bellatrix whose hand was moving quickly just out of sight. 

“Make her come,” the dark urged with intensity.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Hermione,” Andromeda finally spoke over her shoulder. 

“Andy,” she whimpered plaintively.

“We know just what you need,” Andromeda said soothingly reaching meaningfully between her legs. 

Hermione quaked in her arms already breathless when Narcissa claimed her lips. The blonde eased away, leading them towards the bed. Hermione climbed after her, wanting to taste her lips again, momentarily forgetting Andromeda was just behind her. Hermione threw her head back and moaned when the entirety of Andromeda’s naked body pressed against her from behind. 

“Fuck her,” Bellatrix growled on her feet and advancing on the bed. “Enough playing.” She leaned over Narcissa, kissing Hermione roughly. 

“Andy,” Narcissa said. There was no further vocal instruction, but the next thing Hermione knew Andromeda was pushing her cock inside her from behind. The motion kept her very intimately in Nacissa’s space. The blonde watched her closely taking in the arousal and anxiety. With her mouth against Hermione’s ear she whispered, “You look delicious with her cock in you.” 

“Cissy,” Hermione whined. 

“Oh little witch,” the blonde said affectionately. “You need more don’t you? You are greedy.” 

“Please,” she panted. 

“Be a good girl and come on her cock while we watch,” Bellatrix chimed in. “Then I will hold you down and make you take Narcissa’s hand like I promised you.” 

Hermione cried out and lunged for Narcissa’s lips needing more connection. The blonde kissed back hard undulating their bodies together. She let Hermione breathe occasionally, but didn’t let her drift away. She played idling with hard nipples, pulling them roughly at random intervals. 

“Touch her clit, Narcissa,” Bellatrix demanded scooting closer and putting her wet fingers against Hermione’s lips. She grinned triumphantly when Narcissa did as she asked and the muddy girl look her fingers deep in her mouth. 

Hermione did her best to not come immediately, but the pressure inside of her and Narcissa’s skilled fingers were more than she could reasonably take. 

“Please,” she moaned unsure of who to even ask. 

“Come,” Andromeda commanded biting her shoulder even as she thrust. 

Hermione let go, having climbed higher than she had ever experienced before. She vaguely felt Andromeda pull out and flop down behind her. But Narcissa’s fingers never stopped moving against her soaked folds. They gentled playfully, but she never disengaged.

“Narcissa,” Bellatrix grunted much closer now. 

Hermione opened her eyes just in time to see Bellatrix posessively kiss Narcissa. She gaped at the sight. It was far more attractive than she could have imagined. They clearly knew each other intimately in a way that Hermione wasn’t sure she had experienced yet.

“Aren’t they lovely,” Andromeda said in her ear snuggling close to watch. She rested a hand on Hermione’s stomach comfortingly. “You know that after tonight you can never leave me… us.” 

Hermione turned at the oddly forthcoming statement to look into dark eyes that she loved. She lifted her hand for the first time since they entered the library. “There was never any chance I was going to leave you, Andy. None.” 

Andromeda said nothing, but kissed her soundly ignoring the obvious attention from Narcissa and Bellatrix. 

“I don’t mind watching you fuck her, Andromeda. But you know romance makes me queasy,” Bellatrix whined childishly. 

Hermione considered saying something in defense of Andromeda, but was distracted by Narcissa’s fingers slipping inside of her. 

“You want this, don’t you?” The blonde taunted moving the conversation in a different direction. She thrust her fingers in just the way that made Hermione forget all language. 

The young witch squeaked, but pushed down on the fingers. She was silenced, by Bellatrix taking her lips harshly. 

“Doesn’t my Narcissa feel good, muddy girl,” she said against her lips. “How many times have you let her fuck you over every piece of furniture in this room? You still haven’t taken her hand have you?” 

Hermione managed to shake her head slightly. 

“I think its time, don’t you agree Andy,” Bellatrix continued prodding. “Why don’t you help Narcissa get her ready? It’s sounding terribly wet. I suspect a couple more fingers would it perfectly.” 

Andromeda moaned against Hermione’s neck while she cradled two fingers in the palm of Narcissa’s hand and they slid back into her. 

Hemione felt stretched, but was so overwhelmed by the situation that any pain simply didn’t register. She struggled to keep her hips still wanting to move with them. As she started to relax, Bellatrix scored her nails up her torso ending with her nipples. She played with them harshly as she did everytime they coupled. Hermione couldn’t help the groan pulled from the depth of her being. 

“That’s right, muddy girl. Take them fucking you together. Add another finger, Andromeda. Don’t you want to get your little love ready? Narcissa is going to need her nice and stretched,” Bellatrix continued to demand. 

Hermione grunted at the addition, but Bellatrix’s fingers against her clit were maddeningly distracting. The dark witch was rarely gentle and to be the center of her focus was intoxicating. She relaxed into them, letting them control her body. She didn’t even bother to attempt to see when a cool liquid dripped on her cunt and onto their fingers making her wetter than she had ever been. She wanted to complain with the constant stretch suddenly reduced, but Andromeda had claimed her mouth thoroughly while Bellatrix held her wrists to the bed. 

“I want your hand in her now,” Bellatrix demanded hotly. 

Hermione was surprised and the speed with with Narcissa responded. All of the pressure and then some that disappeared was back. She knew it was more than she had ever taken. She whimpered into the kiss. She wanted this so badly. She started to grow frustrated when a warm mouth closed over her clit. She didn’t have to look to know it was the one mouth she had never felt there. Bellatrix was never short of teeth anywhere else, it was only logical that she would abuse Hermione’s clit similarly. It was so intense that she nearly missed the momentary overwhelming pressure as Narcissa was finally able to ease her folded hand inside her. 

“Oh Merlin,” Hermione moaned turning her head away from the kiss and just attempting to breathe. 

“You are so pretty when stretched around my sister,” Bellatrix said looking up her body. “You take it so well.” She paused before saying softly, “It’s like you were made for us.” 

Hermione wanted to respond in a dozen different ways, but couldn’t find her voice to do anything but whine. She was so so close to coming. She knew that one gentle touch would send her flying. 

“Make her come,” Narcissa commanded Bellatrix. Hermione watched a momentary stare down before Bellatrix complied. 

When Hermione finally came back to herself, Andromeda was holding her possessively with her head tucked under her chin. Narcissa was on her other side tracing idle fingers over the young witch’s chest and stomach distractedly. Hermione couldn’t see Bellatrix aside from the hand that snaked between Narcissa’s legs and moved rhythmically. Without thinking about what she was doing, Hermione cupped Narcissa cheek and kissed her slowly absorbing her moan. A dark head emerged from behind Narcissa and dark eyes swept over the kissing witches. 

“You have my blessing, Hermione,” Bellatrix said while moving her fingers more firmly into Narcissa. When her statement wasn’t immediately responded to, she continued. “As head of the Black family, I grant you permission to bond with Andromeda. You will be magically bound to our family. You will be ours forever.” 

Hermione released Narcissa’s lips and took in the reassurance in the blue eyes, she turned slowly to find Andy’s face. She felt like her heart might come out of her chest at the adoration. She searched for elaborate words that would fill Andromeda’s heart the way her own felt. At the smile that was turning watery, Hermione rolled on her side so that Andromeda was all she could see. She stared into the most captivating eyes she’d ever seen. 

“Yours,” Hermione whispered against her lips.


	6. How Old is Your Soul

The warmth of the fire still touched Hermione less than the memories of her (new, but aging) life. From where she sat in her sadness, she could see the flames were dwindling to nothing. She felt ungrateful for the beauty of life that surrounded her, because still the sadness of loss seeped through her veins. She knew tears were running down her face, but wasn’t sure she could stop them. 

“Hermione,” a quiet voice sounded from the doorway. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” 

Hermione didn’t move, though she had heard. She wasn’t sure if she could formulate an answer. The clicking of heels drew closer and she sunk back into the couch trying to escape. 

“Little witch,” Narcissa continued frustration creeping into her voice at not being obeyed. She moved directly into Hermione’s line of sight and cupped her chin. Feeling damp skin, Narcissa hauled her to her feet. Blue appraising eyes scanned her for injury before holding her close. 

“Hermione,” she tried again. So much had changed since that first time she had taken liberties with the girl in this very room. Narcissa had thought she understood the depth of their connection then, but the longer they all shared rooms, bodies and air the stronger it got. She had known Hermione was distressed before she could get to the library, but she could now clearly see that it was outside the bounds of what she generally handled. This soul aching grief was more Andromeda’s specialty. 

But the arms twining around her waist and holding with desperate need destroyed any hope Narcissa had of leaving it for Andromeda. Not that she thought the witch would be far behind her. They would be lucky if Bellatrix arrived without an army of aurors with her. 

“Are you going to tell me or are we waiting for the others,” Narcissa asked pointedly. 

“No need to wait,” Andromeda said sweeping into the room and cradling her wife between them. “I would be shocked if Bella were far behind. The pull was unbearable. What is going on?” She drifted her hand over a rounded stomach. She felt raw with love for the life that grew in there. 

Hermione buried her head in Narcissa’s neck in embarrassment. Trying to draw comfort and find words again. Before she could pour out her heart and thoughts, the doors banged open loudly. Bellatrix looked ready to go to war, but Hermione knew her well enough to see the fear in her wild eyes. 

“What is the matter,” the dark witch demanded without pleasantries. 

“I found her like this,” Narcissa said eager to shift the responsibility elsewhere. 

“I’m not sure,” Andy said quickly. 

“Hermione,” Bellatrix softened her tone as much as she could manage. “Are you hurt? The baby?” 

Hermione managed to shake her head and felt the collective relaxation. “Am I the only one who knows what day it is,” she asked quietly, not bothering to unbury her face from Narcissa’s neck. 

Shared looks elected Andromeda the spokes-witch, after all she had been the one to impregnate Hermione. 

“When you are glowing with the Black family heir, love,” she said slowly stroking Hermione’s sides soothingly, “it’s hard to see anything as an end. May 2nd has become the beginning of our story.” 

Hermione peered at Bellatrix cautiously until she finally moved closer looking less angry. She closed her eyes as the dark witch fondly brushed the curls away from her face. 

“This is where you were intended to be, Hermione Black. Your path to us wasn’t direct, muddy girl. But this,” she added her hands to the four already on the swollen belly, “is everything. Don’t mourn for the lost. Live for those yet to come.” 

Hermione reached for her lips and received a kiss far sweeter than Bellatrix normally allowed. 

“Well, if we are all home,” Andromeda said practically, “I suggest we take this conversation to a bedroom. In her current state, we can hardly expect her to be comfortable on a couch for what we are going to do to her.” 

Hermione nodded her agreement, not allowing any for the witches around her get too far away. She stowed away the memories of a long lost past. It did not serve her in this world.


End file.
